


Rainy Days

by GauntletSpirit



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, shameless grasper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6538798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GauntletSpirit/pseuds/GauntletSpirit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There! A lone van stands<br/>The rain pours down around it.<br/>Cocoa, Music, Peace. </p>
<p>(A grasper fic present/bribe. Lol. Cuteness and fluff  ahoy.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainy Days

Rain drummed steadily on the roof of Greg’s van. There was little wind and the rhythm had begun to creep into his head: so he had grabbed his guitar and was now picking out random little tunes. Nothing fancy or serious, simply a free flow of sorts.

He had shoved aside a pile of his clothes to make a wide free-space (safety first!) for his hot plate and kettle. The aforementioned clothes now served as a rather comfortable backrest for him. It was just chilly enough that he was glad for the warmth of his van, but not so cold that his meager protection would be pushed past the point of effectiveness. All told, he was rather comfortable and content.

The only thing missing was Steven sitting next to him, plucking out a counterpoint to his little ditties.

Through the distorted view of his rain-swirled windshield Greg saw a looming shape pass quickly by the side of the van, accompanied by loud, thudding footsteps.

He smiled.

The back doors of the van were jerked open, letting in a small spattering of rain, a louder sound of splashes and musical tinkling, and one very large, very wet, very GRUMPY gem.

“Towel, Jasper?” Greg asked, reaching into the pile behind him and yanking out a large bathtowel for his impromptu guest.

“Hrmf.”

She disdained his offer, choosing instead to shake herself briskly and with vigor, spraying water throughout the narrow confines. Greg barely lifted the towel in time to shield himself.

“It would have made much less mess,” He said chidingly, lowering it and looking chagrined. Jasper grunted again and yanked the doors shut behind her. Then she took the towel after all, gently, and began to squeeze her huge mane of hair dry.

“Your planet’s unpredictable weather patterns are frequently ANNOYING,” She growled, curling herself up to fit into the confined space. Greg moved his legs a little to give her room, but not SO much room that their legs failed to touch. She accepted the casual contact without comment, and Greg’s stomach did a funny flop.

“Well, rainy days are good for a few things at least,” Greg strummed a few chords on his guitar, smiling. “Want some hot cocoa? The milk should be warm enough by now.” He nodded to the hot plate and kettle.

Jasper’s expression might best be described as “utterly unimpressed.”

“No, really, it’s good!” Greg set the guitar aside and grabbed his mug and the cocoa powder can. “Especially with a little cinnamon added in! I don’t have any right now, but -” he popped the lid off of the can and held it out invitingly. “Look just smell it, you can’t possibly resist - “

Jasper was giving him a bone-chilling glare.

“Oh, right. Smell. Well, just try a little bit when it’s mixed? It warms you up right down to your toes, and you still look kindof chilled from the rain.”

“No.”

Greg shrugged.

“Suit yourself,” He grabbed his mug and added two heaping spoonfuls of cocoa powder, and then one extra just to spoil himself. He poured in the milk and stirred it up, watching as the foam formed on top and the color settled to a rich, dark brown. He could see that Jasper was still watching him closely, but he pretended not to notice.

Greg blew on the mug slightly, to cool it, and then took his first sip. He sighed, closed his eyes and leaned back against the clothes pile.

“Ah, that always hits just the spot.”

Jasper made an odd snorting sound, lay down, and stretched out as much as she could across the floor. Greg could see her relaxing slowly, and was warmed by a feeling entirely unrelated to hot cocoa.

Being trusted, really trusted, was a feeling that made you wish more than anything to deserve that trust.

Greg strummed his guitar, mindless tuning slowly taking the shape of a rainy day melody. He worked his way through the whole kettle of milk, making several cups of cocoa and enjoying the treat.

Jasper could have been asleep for all that she moved, but Greg could tell that she was wide awake. When Jasper was really asleep she went completely limp and tended to sprawl into the most uncomfortable looking positions. Once, she had ended up laying on her belly with her legs against the side of his van, pointed at the ceiling, her neck craned at the oddest angle and both arms flopped out to one side. Greg had snapped a picture of that one for posterity. He would never get it printed, though: if Jasper found out she would likely take great pains to destroy all the evidence, he was sure.

Greg was brought out of his reflections when he felt a quick peck on the side of his mouth.

He blinked, eyes wide, and turned his head sharply to stare at Jasper. She was grinning her fierce, fang bearing grin at him.

How did she move that fast when she was so large? Gems, he swore.

“You’re right, cocoa IS tasty.”


End file.
